Can Do
by HeadlessHuntsman
Summary: Hugo is sick and Ron and Hermione are worried.


**This is a little one shot that popped into my head today.**

**Tell me what you think.**

**I own none of this nor do I own the quote from the song.**

**Can Do**

The night air is close as Ron Weasley lies in his bed listening to the sounds of the house. Even if it wasn't so warm he wouldn't be sleeping. He is worried and is listening for sounds that he is needed. Hermione returns to the bedroom and sits on the bed.

"How is he?" Ron asks.

"He's finally asleep. The fever hasn't gotten any worse but it hasn't gone down either," Hermione says woodenly. Suddenly she is crying.

Ron sits up and pulls Hermione into a hug.

"He is just so small," Hermione cries. "I feel so helpless. All those books and knowledge. What good are they, bloody useless."

"Everything will be ok," Ron says, rubbing her back. "It's got to be."

A very weak sound of a child's cries comes from hallway.

"I'll go," Ron says. "Why don't you look in on Rose. She must be worried too."

Ron leaves the room and walks to his son's room. He feels for Hermione. She is not used to not knowing what to do. Ron is used to accepting things on faith. The healers don't know what is causing the boy's fever; and have been treating the symptoms for two days. If it doesn't break soon, they are worried some permanent damage could be done. Hugo has been fighting one illness or another almost since the day he was born.

He walks into the room and his three year old son is sitting up in his bed, crying dry tears. Ron sits on the end of the bed and the sick boy crawls into his lap. Ron kisses the boy's head, checking his temperature in the process. He still feels hot.

"Hey there Bubba, you feeling any better?" Ron asks the small boy in his arms.

The red haired boy shakes his head no and rests his head on Ron's broad shoulder. Ron scoots his back is up against the headboard of the bed and his son curls up in his lap. Ron casts the cooling charm that the healers recommended.

The small boy looks up and catches Ron's eye.

"Can do, daddy?" he asks.

Ron smiles, in spite of his worry, and nods.

Ron starts to sing.

"I got the horse right here  
The name is Paul Revere  
And here's a guy that says that the weather's clear  
Can do, can do, this guy says the horse can do  
If he says the horse can do, can do, can do."

This is a song Ron's father used to sing to him and his siblings when they were sick. Hermione looked it up one time and told Ron where it's from, but he's forgotten now. Hugo sighs and closes his eyes.

Ron looks and the sleeping boy and is overcome buy doubts and fear.

Ron looks to the ceiling. "Hey, I don't know if there's anyone up there, but billions of Muggles can't be wrong, yeah?" He says aloud. "He's just so small. So if you're there and you can see fit, please help him."

Ron continues to rock his son humming the tune softly.

Hermione enters the room holding the hand of five-year old Rose.

"She wanted to see her Bubba," she says nodding to Rose.

Rose climbs onto the bed.

"Night Bubba," she says, kissing his flushed forehead. "Eww," the the little girl says, "Bubba's all sweaty."

Ron and Hermione stare at each other then immediately look at there son. His face and arms are covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Hermione breathes out a sigh. "It's broken."

She scoops up Rose and sits on the bed with her in her lap.

Ron casts a quick diagnostics charm and it reveals that the boy's temperature is returning to normal.

Hermione takes Rose back to the girl's bedroom to tuck her in, leaving Ron to get Hugo situated.

Ron doesn't know what to make of it all. He knows if he tells Hermione about his prayer, she will say it's all coincidence. It may very well be. Well coincidence or Divine intervention, whichever you want to call it, Ron thinks that maybe there are things and forces that shouldn't be analyzed and studied. Maybe they need to just be thankfully accepted.

Ron looks at his son, sleeping more peacefully than he has for days. He glances up past the ceiling.

"Thanks, yeah?"


End file.
